


تقبرني

by chinashards (bluedreaming), daisyillusive (bluedreaming)



Category: AOA | Ace of Angels, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Body Exhumation, F/F, F/M, Ghosts, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hanahaki Disease, Hospitals, M/M, Magical Realism, Major character death - Freeform, Multi, Not Really Character Death, Past Character Death, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-20 13:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4789610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/pseuds/chinashards, https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/pseuds/daisyillusive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Why must fireflies die so young?</em>—Setsuko, <span class="small">Grave of the Fireflies, 1988</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. FOREWORD

**Author's Note:**

> Quote prompt: _In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on._ —Robert Frost  
>  Picture prompt: [Legacy: one will rise, one will fall, one will die](http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/30600000/What-I-found-in-the-Young-Justice-Invasion-Tumblr-Tag-young-justice-30658443-500-214.jpg)  
> Song prompt: [VIXX's Error](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IF8kySIcWNw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The word تقبرني, _Ya'aburnee_ , has the literal meaning "you bury me" and expresses the hope that a person or loved one will outlive you, thereby sparing you the pain of living life beyond that person. [source](http://languageshellyeah.tumblr.com/post/5800323273/awesome-foreign-word-of-the-day-yaaburnee)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the the character Jimin present in this story is Shin Jimin (of AOA), not Park Jimin (of BTS), to avoid confusion.

Title: تقبرني  
Rating: Teen and Up audiences  
Warnings: None applies but there are other warnings  
Fandoms: 방탄소년단, AOA  
Category: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi  
Relationships: Kim Taehyun (BTS)/Shin Jimin (AOA), Kim Taehyun (BTS)/Jeon Jeongguk (BTS), Kim Seolhyun (AOA)/Park Choa (AOA)  
Characters: Kim Taehyun (BTS), Shin Jimin (AOA), Jeon Jeongguk (BTS), Kim Seolhyun (AOA), Park Choa (AOA)  
Additional tags: hanahaki disease, magical realism, Alternative Universe - Modern, major character death, terminal illness, exhumation of a body, blood, ghost  
Summary: _Why must fireflies die so young?_ —Setsuko, Grave of the Fireflies, 1988  
Notes: Quote prompt: _In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on._ —Robert Frost


	2. FOREWORD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I just need to live like this, I just need to breathe_  
>  _I just need to be alive, why can't I?_ —[Error](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IF8kySIcWNw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hanahaki disease** : _hanahaki byou (花吐き病)_  
>  There are many iterations of this phenomena, but in this story it's a fatal disease of the human system where a person coughs up flowers due to severe one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, the person’s one-sided-love must be returned. There is no other treatment. Even in this story, Taehyung is a special case because the hanahaki disease he has does not manifest as flowers but rather fireflies.

It's dark in the room, stars dotting the expanse of sky stretched outside the window, a faint breeze rustling through the leaves of the tree outside the open window. There's a young man lying in the bed, curled up in the shadows and sheets, fabric tangled around his curved body, the long lines of his legs and arms sprawled, chest rising and falling in slumber.

Jeongguk watches Taehyung sleeping in the dark, in the silence before dawn.

Taehyung stirs then, shivers, and Jeongguk's fingers ball into fists in his hands, nails digging into the skin. Taehyung's mouth opens, air escaping like a sigh, and along with it a tiny ball of light.

It's a firefly, and it's beautiful. More join it, floating out from between his lips, swirling in the air before drifting out to explore the room, the ceiling, some flying out the window, escaping into the night as a rime of red cracks the edge of the dark, the sun's first claws scraping at the dark. As the dimness lifts, Taehyung stirs, coughs, a single blackened body ejected from his mouth. One cough turns into a hacking fit; he's curled up, raising his head as he tries to sit, pushing himself up on his elbows, the tiny wizened bodies of dead fireflies spilling out of his mouth, the veins on his neck popping as he coughs and coughs and gasps for breath until the waterfall of death slows, stops, leaving him shaking in a crumpled heap of sheets torn from the mattress, the room stained red from the rising sun.

When it's over, Taehyung glances over at Jeongguk, curled up into himself on the chair by the door, and mouths words he can't hear over the rasping of Taehyung's breath but understands anyway.

_I'm sorry._

 

 

 

It's bright now, too bright for the headache building in the base of his neck as Jeongguk blinks out into the garden through the open window above the sink, the tap still running even though the water in his glass is spilling over. He knows she's watching him from the counter, perched in front of the cabinets, ankles crossed in her favourite white socks.

Jeongguk turns the water off instead, the glass slipping out of his hands and breaking into pieces upon impact as he turns and punches the counter, wincing as the marble connects with his knuckles. It hurts. It doesn't hurt enough.

There's a slight current of air, a motion that doesn't move anything. Jeongguk finally looks up, locking eyes with Jimin, her fingers white against the marble as she opens her mouth and tries to say something, but only flowers fall out from between her lips.

Jeongguk starts to say something; stops, snapping his mouth shut. There's nothing to say. He leaves instead, fingers tangled in his pocket, a smear of red on the blue of his jeans. The pages of the book on the counter ruffle in the non-existent wind, spilling open to a page with a single phrase, black on white.

Save him.

But Jeongguk is already gone.

 

 

 

Jeongguk knocks, _tap, tap_ , on Taehyung's door; not because he won't be allowed in but because it's the least he can do, give at least some semblance of normalcy to this situation.

"Come in," he hears, the voice rasping slightly over a raw throat. Jeongguk doesn't think about the death sitting in Taehyung's lungs, he can't. He swallows and turns the doorknob, the door swinging open silently on well-oiled hinges.

Taehyung is sitting up in bed, sheets pulled straight, and he smiles at Jeongguk, face bright. His easy happiness almost hurts sometimes, but Jeongguk smiles back anyway.

"I brought you the breakfast your dad left," he says, setting the tray on the nightstand and passing Taehyung a napkin to spread over the sheet. Taehyung's smile dims slightly at he looks at the food on the tray, abalone rice porridge and barley tea.

"I'm not really hungry," he says quietly, almost to himself, but he sets his shoulders and reaches for the bowl and spoon Jeongguk hands him. The bowl is melamine, light, but the way Taehyung's arm sinks as he grasps it in his hand, you'd think it weighed ten kilograms. Jeongguk swallows, blinks back the burning in his eyes.

"Do you want the tea now or later?" he asks, and Taehyung leans forward, spoon in one hand and bowl resting on the napkin spread over his legs, for Jeongguk to lift the straw to his mouth.

"Thanks!" Jeongguk can tell Taehyung isn't hungry, but he still smiles, dipping the spoon into the porridge and taking tiny nibbles and it's easy enough to forget, just for a little while, when Taehyung is so good at pretending.

Taehyung makes a joke and Jeongguk laughs and it's almost like before Jimin, high school when they were inseparable and did everything together, or even after Taehyung got a girlfriend, because he never let Jeongguk feel left out, and Jimin was just as awesome, wild and funny and Jeongguk somehow ended up liking her a lot.

The only thing he's ever held against her is dying, even though he knows she couldn't help it.

 

 

 

"You know, it's kind of crazy, meeting for coffee when we work at a coffee shop," Jeongguk says, sliding into the seat across the table from Choa, who looks up, smiling.

"Hi Jeongguk!" she says brightly, a half-empty cup of coffee already hooked around her finger. She doesn't ask about how Taehyung's doing, and Jeongguk appreciates it. Instead, she reaches over the table and ruffles his hair, laughing as he scowls, because he doesn't mean it. "I like coffee," she says, and edges the plate of cookies across the table at him, "and they have great cookies here too."

"Of course they have great cookies," Jeongguk snorts, forgetting to frown as he takes a bite of crunchy sweetness, "you made them."

"You're so kind," Choa laughs, patting his arm, and Jeongguk feels his shoulders relaxing, like he can breathe just a little bit better again. Choa notices, of course; she notices everything.

"I know that Taehyung loves you," she says. "Don't ever think he doesn't." The cookie in Jeongguk's mouth turns to sand, scraping his throat as he swallows.

"That's not the problem," he says, and he's kind of known for a long time, even though Taehyung doesn't talk about it, Taehyung will never bring it up, not while—"He's still dying. Whether he loves me or not doesn't change anything about it." There's a lump in his throat and he swallows it down with coffee, blinking.

Choa frowns, but there's nothing she can really say, and Jeongguk feels bad for taking the conversation down such a depressing path when she was only trying to cheer him up.

"What about you and Seolhyun?" Jeongguk says instead, taking a sip of caramel latte. 

"What about Seolhyun?" Choa retorts, but there's a faint flush staining her cheeks and Jeongguk grins.

"Or have you just developed a sudden interest in lacrosse, specifically the Panthers?" He laughs, and it feels good.

"Stop it," Choa says, puffing her lip even though she's older than he is, and setting her now empty cup on the table with a _clang_. "You're just poking fun at me."

"No, I'm not," Jeongguk says, and he's still smiling but his face is more serious now. "You always told me to tell Taehyung and I didn't listen until it was too late.

Choa folds her hands on the table, fingers woven together. "You know why I can't say anything right now," she says, and Jeongguk nods slowly, setting his cup down to rest on the saucer. Seolhyun is Taehyung's older sister, and they both know that Taehyung is dying.

 

 

 

In the break between classes, Jeongguk stops in the hallway to pull out his phone, setting his bag down on the steps as he listens to the ringing, Taehyung's name blinking on the screen. _He's probably sleeping._ He's just about to end the call when the line connects.

"Hello?" It's a girl's voice, Seolhyun, on the other end of the line, and Jeongguk's fingers tense.

"Is everything okay?" he can't help but ask, even though _okay_ is relative.

"He's just sleeping," Seolhyun says, "but he coughed up more fireflies after lunch." She sounds a little tired, and Jeongguk wishes he could do something to make everything better, but he can't.

"I wish the doctors could do something," he says, even though it's a pointless comment, because sometimes he just needs to let some of the twisting in his chest escape out of his mouth, before the mess of emotions curdles and burns him, like the fireflies in Taehyun's lungs that don't make it out in time, heaping up in tiny sad bundles of death. "I feel so useless. All I can do is watch and smile at him, hold the straw for him to drink tea."

"Stop it," Seolhyun says, and she sounds almost upset. "You're not useless." There's a pause, and Jeongguk wonders whether he should just say goodbye or try to apologize, when Seolhyun sighs, the air loud over the phone, and starts talking again.

"I have a theory," she says, and Jeongguk waits for her to explain. "You love my brother, right?"

Jeongguk nods, forgetting that she can't see him in the department hallway, clears his throat and mumbles a "yeah" in agreement.

"I've seen the way you look at him," she says, "and I'm pretty sure that if he didn't love you back just as much, you'd be throwing up flowers in the bathroom right now." Jeongguk opens his mouth to protest and then stops. She's right, even though he hadn't thought about it that way before. It's strange, to think about him being the one sick, and it doesn't seem fair, suddenly, that he's not.

"I think," Seolhyun continues, her voice over the line growing clearer as she keeps talking, "I think that you loving Taehyung, and him loving you back; that's all that's keeping him going right now." Her voice is firm, resolute, and he can see her face, probably in the living room, curled up on the couch with their cat, her expression the same as when she's standing on the field, waiting to make that final shot.

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Jeongguk protests, his voice too loud in the hallway but he doesn't care. "If he loves me and I love him then why is he still dying?" He ignores the stares he's getting from the students passing him on the way to their next classes; they don't matter, nothing else matters right now.

"Who knows," Seolhyun says, and now that she's finished her explanation she just sounds tired, and a little sad. "But I think we can agree that it's possible to love more than one person." And, thinking about Taehyung, Jeongguk has to agree.

"So all I can tell you right now, Jeon Jeongguk," she says, her voice catching in her throat but she keeps talking anyway, "is this: don't you dare stop loving my brother."

"I won't," Jeongguk replies, and it sounds like a prayer. The phone call ends, silence echoing in his ear before he slips the phone back into his pocket. He thinks about Choa then, her face when she watches the Panthers playing from the stands, and wonders whether he should mention it to Seolhyun some time, but it's not his place.

His place is with Taehyung.

 

 

 

Jeongguk stops by his house after his last class, slipping into the shower and changing into a fresh pair of clothes before grabbing his bag and heading out again.

His mom catches him at the foot of the steps, her face sympathetic as she wraps him up in her arms and gives him a warm hug that makes him feel safe, just for a moment, like he's five years old again and he's just heading to Taehyung's house for a sleepover and his biggest worry is that Taehyung will hide frogs in his sheets.

She sends him off with a kiss on the forehead. "Be strong," she murmurs into his hair as he leans over to rest his head on her shoulder for just a moment, smells the comfort of home.

"Thanks, mom," he says, waving as the door swings shut, the sun setting all around him, shadows stretching wide to swallow up the light as the sun sinks below the horizon and the world turns dark.

It doesn't matter. Jeongguk has walked this way, the steps to Taehyung's house, so often that the route has worn a path into his brain, a lit up highway of connecting nerve endings that shine so brightly, muscle memory so ingrained he could walk the whole way in the dark, blindfolded, because his feet know the way.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> proofread 26.09.2015 11:59


	3. ACT II: Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _But I'm leaving this worry town._   
>  _Please no grieving, my love, understand._
> 
> _**All my dreaming torn in pieces, now.**_ —[A Million Little Pieces](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0YP9aJ_1TQ)

It's dark when Jeongguk opens his eyes; something has woken him up and his first move is to glance toward Taehyung in bed, his neck turning reflexively before he's even fully awake. Taehyung isn't coughing, not yet, but there are spots of light in the dark room, and Jeongguk is halfway across the floor before he realizes it, freezing next to the bed because Taehyung doesn't like it, doesn't like Jeongguk's crumpled face as he coughs death out onto the sheets as Jeongguk holds him up. He says it makes him feel worse, that Jeongguk's expression hurts more than the fireflies. So Jeongguk feels a sickening jolt of fear rushing down his spine as Taehyung reaches out for him in the dark, even as he slides onto the bed and holds Taehyung in his arms, rubbing his back when the fireflies stop flying and the coughing begins to wrack his far-too-slender frame, just skin and bones under Jeongguk's careful hands.

Taehyung feels like one wrong finger and he'll shatter into a million pieces, but Jeongguk holds him anyway, until the coughing stops, a small pile of darkness lying on the white sheet. Taehyung leans back then, supported by Jeongguk's chest, and just breathes, the sound hoarse and painful.

"Why are you always here?" he asks, and he sounds more curious than anything else, like everything is still a dream and he's letting things slip out of his mouth after the fireflies, things that wouldn't normally be leaving his chest, but nothing is normal now.

"I'm here because things like this happen," Jeongguk replies, running his hands over the bones of Taehyung's shoulders, skin warm against skin, soothing.

"But why?" Taehyung asks, and he's definitely half asleep, his five year old petulant child voice bubbling out, sounding so wrong on a throat scraped raw. Jeongguk's hands pause, resting on Taehhyung's collarbones where they fit perfectly.

"I'm here because I love you," he says, and it's somehow easier to say it in the dark, when Taehyung might not even remember it in the morning. It's too late to be saying things like this, but somehow that makes it all the more important. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember."

Taehyung swallows, the sound somehow terrible, and Jeongguk tries not to wince. "But I, Jimin. . .?" he asks, his voice trailing away he twists his head, trying to meet Jeongguk's eyes and Jeongguk is glad of the dark, so that Taehyung can't see the tears leaking down his face.

"Love doesn't work like that," is all he says, and dares, now, when it can't matter, to press a soft kiss to Taehyung's hair. Taehyung just sighs, sinking back into Jeongguk's chest, his fingers entwining with Jeongguk's in the dark, and he doesn't say anything at all.

 

 

 

"How are you holding up?" Choa asks, cup in hand as she stops by the cash register, empty tray tucked under her arm to take back to the kitchen, the cookie and cake display restocked.

Jeongguk sighs, but smiles anyway. "We're still breathing," he says, and the joke falls flat but Choa still grins, poking him on the cheek. "You're so cute," she says, and Jeongguk can't help but stick out his tongue at her, it's a conditioned reflex.

The bell over the door sounds, a bright metallic sparkle, and Jeongguk looks up to see Seolhyun walking in, gym bag slung over her shoulder, her dark hair scraped up in a ponytail as she stops by the coffee shop on the way home from practice.

"Hi Seolhyun!" he calls, waving, and she grins, swinging the bag off her shoulder and letting it fall onto a chair before coming up to the counter. Jeongguk leaves the register, ducking under the counter to rummage through the cabinet so Choa has to ring up the order instead, her professional demeanor taking over, despite the flush rising in her cheeks as Seokhyun smiles at her, asking for the barista's recommendation of the day.

"Well, we have a really nice spiced latte for the season," Choa says, and now that she's not panicking, settled into the role of taking orders, she smiles back, smoothing the blond hair behind her ear with a slender finger. Jeongguk peers up from the cabinets, and it definitely isn't just Choa; Seolhyun looks even more smitten if possible, handing Choa her card as Jeongguk whips up the order and leaves it for Choa to hand to her, fingers brushing against Seolhyun's as she hands her the cup.

When the front door swings shut, bell ringing faintly, Jeongguk elbows Choa and grins. "What are you waiting for? She totally likes you!" Choa just snorts into her coffee cup, making a face.

"Why did you wait so long?" Choa retorts, and Jeongguk's smile fades, though not because of her words.

Jimin is sitting on the counter, arms gesturing as petals cascade out of her mouth, pouring in crimson heaps on the floor, and Jeongguk can smell the sticky sweetness of crushed roses as Jimin tries to tell him something he can't understand. He understands anyway.

"Jeongguk, are you okay?" Choa's voice seems to be coming from too far away, like he's sinking underwater, his motions strangely smooth, almost dreamlike as he pulls the phone from his pocket, dials Taehyung's number.

Someone picks it up after the second right. "Hello?" It's Taehyung's mom, and Jeongguk's stomach drops out onto the ground.

"Is Taehyung okay?" he asks, even though he knows he's not, because Taehyung's mom works during the day and there's no way she'd even been around to answer his phone unless—

"We're at the hospital," she says, her voice strangely muffled, as though she's holding back sobs. "He. . .he couldn't breathe, so we called the ambulance."

Even though the coffee shop is still full of customers, coffee cups clinking against saucers, the murmurs of voices filling the space with noise, everything goes silent.

 

 

 

Jeongguk finally realizes Choa is talking to him when she wraps a hand around his shoulder and shakes, jarring him out of his trance.

"I heard," she says, gesturing towards the phone still clutches in his white-knuckled fingers. "You should go," she says, beckoning to the door.

"But—" Jeongguk starts, because it's going to be the post-work rush soon and though he's practically quivering with the need to be there, _Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung_ the name repeated over and over in his head, Jeongguk knows that it's just Choa at the coffee shop today and—

"Don't worry," Choa says, breaking into the spiralling thoughts running through his head, "I'll just call Mina, she owes me a favour anyway." Jeongguk looks at her for a moment, the sad smile on her face as she pulls him in for a hug. "It'll be okay," she says, and Jeongguk, not usually one for hugs, lets her do the only thing she can do for him right now.

"Thanks," he says, pulling off his apron and hanging it on the hook by the door. Choa's eyes are shiny, standing behind the counter as the door closes, bells tinkling in the shadows. Jimin is gone.

He runs for the subway exit, weaving around the first trickles of an oncoming tide of office workers, heart racing as he cuts in front of a group of students, from his university it looks like, judging from their bomber jackets, and just makes it onto the next subway. It's packed of course, seats full and people clinging onto the handrail, swaying as the train curves underground. Jeongguk tries to breathe, tries to reassure himself that Taehyung will still be there when he gets there.

He watches the other people in the subway instead, men, women, children, elderly people with canes, a pregnant woman sitting on a pink seat. He wonders who they love, if they're loved in return, if some of them will leave the train and duck into a public washroom, closing the door of the cubicle before they cough up mounds of flowers or other sharper things.

Jeongguk swallows the lump in his throat, but it keeps coming back as he counts the stops to the hospital. There are only four.

 

 

 

"I'm here to see Kim Taehyung," Jeongguk says to the nurse at the counter, gasping for air because he ran the block from the subway exit. She frowns up at him, checks the computer. 

"Are you a family member?" she finally asks, the silence pooling in the spaces between her words, filled with the echoing _Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung_ in Jeongguk's head, and his heart sinks.

"I'm his best friend?" he says, and he can't help the rising tone at the end of the sentence, like he's not really sure what they are to each other, because _friend_ doesn't encompass the things he feels about Taehyung and that he knows Taehyung feels about him, but there are no other words.

"I'm sorry," the nurse says, and she even looks slightly apologetic, which only makes it worse, "He's only permitted family right now."

Jeongguk wants to—he doesn't know what he wants to do, and he's scared of finding out, when all he wants to do is something that will help alleviate the terrible sick ache in his chest, fingers opening and closing into fists as he opens his mouth—

his phone rings, in his pocket, and he flicks to take the call without checking the screen.

"Where are you?!" It's Seolhyun, and she sounds. . .Jeongguk isn't even sure how to interpret the strain in her voice, the way it echoes over the line and catches on the last word.

"I'm at the desk," he replies, "and they won't let me in." There's a muffled sound then, what sounds like Seolhyun swearing under her breath as she covers the receiver with her hand and then the sharp noise of static interference before she's back on the line—

"They cleared you," she says, and hangs up. Jeongguk looks at the nurse, who stares back at him unimpressed until the phone on the desk rings and she answers it, eyebrows shooting up before she sets the receiver back on the base.

"Fifth floor," she says, gesturing towards the elevator. "Someone will meet you." Jeongguk doesn't stop to ask what's going on. He just runs, even though there's a sign that says _no running in the hallways_ , and no one stops him.

 

 

 

Taehyung looks terrible.

Jeongguk can feel the burning at the back of his eyes and he blinks hard, swallowing as he steps quietly to the side of the bed, and he's so scared but so relieved that Taehyung is still here, that he can gently pick up his cold hand and cradle it between his fingers, that Taehyung is _here_.

A picture flashes through his mind, Jimin in the coffin, dark hair against cream silk; Taehyung's limp hair splayed across the hospital pillow, but Taehyung still smiles at him. Taehyung always smiles, even even when there's a tube stuck down his throat so that he can breathe around the mess of dead fireflies in his lungs.

'Hi there," Jeongguk whispers, his voice cracking as Taehyung's fingers press gently into his hand; Taehyung can't speak right now but he still manages to say what needs to said.

The fireflies are in Taehyung's lungs, not Jeongguk's, but he feels like he's the one who can't breathe, listening to the rattle of Taehyung's chest, the rush of air from the respirator as it pumps air in and out of his lungs. It must be a special tube, because after a while fireflies start drifting out of his mouth, Jeongguk looking towards the door for the nurse but Taehyung is coughing now, though there's no air behind the spasming in his chest, all the air is going through the respirator tube but dead fireflies are starting to fall out of his mouth, as Jeongguk holds him up and stares helplessly at the breathing tube before a nurse comes rushing in with what looks like a small vacuum; gently feeding a narrow tube into Taehyun's mouth and sucking up the excess death. When she finally steps back, the tip of the tube is tinged red.

Jeongguk blinks again, but a tear escapes, falling down his face and Taehyung notices, his fingers hovering gently above the bed before they fall back down to the sheet; Taehyung is so tired and Jeongguk just holds his hand, leaning close so he can read the words on Taehyun's silent lips.

_I love you._

Jeongguk wishes it was enough.

 

 

 

Taehyung is sleeping when Jeongguk leaves to go to the washroom, cupping up a handful of water from the tap as he splashes the cold over his face, watches the way the water drips through his fingers.

He can't keep it, even if he tries. Looking up at the mirror, his eyes are red, wide against the paleness of his face in the harsh florescent lighting.

"You can do this, Jeongguk," he tells himself, but the words ring false to his ears, and the bathroom floods with silence when he turns the tap off.

There are hushed voices speaking in the hallway outside Taehyung's room as he heads back; pausing, Jeongguk leans against the wall around the corner and waits for them to leave.

"You mentioned at one point trying to fumigate the fireflies." The voice is rough, strained, like a doctor who's already working on his twenty-fifth hour of no sleep.

"I'm starting to doubt my decision," a second voice says, softer, with a backbone of steel. "Any fumigation will come with side-effects, even if we use chemicals that aren't supposed to affect people, and even if he survives that, with the way his defenses are so low, I don't think he'll survive removing the deposits. Not the way he is right now." There's a sigh, paper rustling.

"Are you going to move him to palliative care then?" the first voice asks, and there's hesitation in his voice, like he's not ready to give in, just yet.

"Let's keep an eye on things for now," the second voice replies, before the sound of footsteps receding down the hallway makes it to Jeongguk's ears, his fists balled up, pressed to his mouth to stop himself from screaming.

Palliative care. _They've given up._

Stepping around the corner, he sees Jimin standing in the hallway, peering through the crack in the door into Taehyung's room. Her eyes are wet, rose petals scattered around her feet, fluttering in a ghostly wind that plucks fitfully at her clothes, stirring the blanket of red into a gust of roses. Jeongguk blinks.

When he opens his eyes again, Jimin is gone, but the petals on the ground remain.

Save him.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> proofread 26.09.2015 12:18


	4. ACT III: Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on._ —Robert Frost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The exhumation and reburial mentioned in this section are vaguely based on certain common South American practices as well as those of other areas, and not meant to taken as a step-by-step practice of any particular custom.

It's been a year since Jimin died. _A year since Taehyung began dying too,_ Jeongguk thinks, standing in the hallway, grave plaques in rows and columns along the wall as they stand, waiting for the grave workers to finish opening up the slot where Jimin's coffin has been sitting for twelve months.

Taehyung is in the wheelchair in front of him, Jeongguk's fingers curled around the handles. No one had wanted him to come— _"no one should have to see the exhumation of a person they love"_ , they'd argued—but Taehyung had insisted, breathing it out in a harsh whisper, the only voice he could manage to sound around the new breathing tube they'd inserted that was supposed to allow him to talk. His voice sounded like something deep inside him was tearing, and no one had argued.

Jeongguk hadn't wanted to argue anyway. He's the only one who can see Jimin, unless Taehyung can too and just hasn't said anything, but somehow he doubts it. He's the one to whom Jimin comes at night, during the day; he'll look up from the sink and see her in the bathroom mirror of the hospital, petals falling out of her mouth. She's trying to tell him something and he wishes he could understand.

Yesterday, at three in morning when he'd finally stumbled to the washroom, Taehyung resting fitfully, whimpering in his sleep at the death filling his lungs in black lumps and crawling light, Jimin had been waiting for him. But instead of trying to say anything at all, she'd only stepped forward, moving through the air like it is was something thicker, fighting against an invisible current to press her mouth to his.

Jeongguk could taste the sadness on her lips, mixed with the roses, as he'd wiped away a stray tear and stepped back into the hallway.

Jimin never wanted to hurt Taehyung. She never wanted any of this to happen, and Jeongguk finds, somehow, that he's forgiven her for this final thing as well.

Standing behind Taehyung now, listening to the sound of chisels on cement, the portable respirator pumping air in and out of Taehyung's lungs, Jeongguk can still taste the sweetness of death on his tongue.

 

 

 

Taehyung slumps in the wheelchair, fingers working around the handles as he starts coughing, the sound echoing terribly in the long hallway, as Seolhyun holds his left arm and Choa crouches down at his right side, patting his back. The respirator stutters, Taehyung fighting against its smooth rhythm as he fights to clear space in his lungs for the air to reach his alveoli, for oxygen to reach his bloodstream as his lips turn blue.

No one says anything about how he shouldn't have come, and for that Jeongguk is grateful, as he crouches over the wheelchair, holding Taehyung steady as flecks of red spot his lips, a few fireflies emerge from his mouth and escape down the hallway, followed by wads and wads of gummy black remains, until finally it's over. Jeongguk pulls out a tissue; helps Taehyung wipe his mouth.

He wonders, not for the first time, why it has to be Taehyung. Jimin still loves him, even though she's not alive anymore, and Jeongguk loves Taehyung so much it hurts, like an ache in his chest he can't dislodge, and he _knows_ for a fact that Taehyung loves him back.

It's not fair, that amidst all this _love_ , Taehyung is the one who has to hurt. Who has to die. It's not fair and it makes him angry because he can't do anything about it, just scream it into his fist in the bathroom, dig it into his palms with his fingernails.

It's like the Indian wives who used to be set on fire along with the bodies of their deceased husbands on their funeral pyres.

Taehyung's life, flickering before Jeongguk's eyes, looks like the last dying embers of a fire, drowning in its ashes.

 

 

 

The family isn't technically allowed to be present at the exhumation for health reasons, especially with the way Taehyung is, but Jimin's parents always liked Taehyung a lot. They seem just as upset about Taehyung's condition as anyone else. _Who wouldn't?_ Jeongguk thinks, watching as the seal of the grave slot is finally opened, the last plaster trickling down to join a small mountain on the ground, and the grave workers slide the coffin out.

It's surprisingly intact, though Jeongguk doesn't really know about these things. Maybe that's how coffins are. Nothing disintegrates, these days, except the things are aren't supposed to. Even though Jimin is going to be cremated now, the head worker had told them earlier that it's still policy to open the coffin and make sure that everything is in order, though they strongly suggest that the family and friends not be immediately present.

As the man reaches with latex-gloved fingers to open the coffin, Jeongguk thinks about Jimin, remembering her face, her smile, her ghost that still comes to him sometimes, and shudders. He's glad that Taehyung had agreed. The coffin creaks open with a groan, rusted hinges squealing even down the hallway, and Jeongguk winces before he hears the intake of breath. The expression on the grave worker's face is not a set expression, giving nothing away, but rather shock and surprise and something like. . . _reverence_?

Jeongguk blinks, and in that split second, rose petals start to spill over the side of the coffin, cascading out over the floor, scattering through the air, not rotten petals, not decayed, but rather fresh and sweet like the ones that always fall from Jimin's mouth when she tries to speak to him, and finally Jeongguk understands.

The grave worker beckons Jimin's parents over, and they walk forward, surprise meshed with something that's not quite hope on their faces before they stop in front of the open coffin, still spilling petals. There's a soft whisper of skin on Jeongguk's hand; he looks down to see Taehyung looking up at him, and he wheels the chair forward without having to ask.

Jimin hasn't decayed at all. She's lying on a bed of roses, pale and still, eyes shut, dark eyelashes dusting her cheeks. She doesn't look dead, but not alive either, rather suspended in time, waiting for something; her lips are parted, mouth slightly open as though there's something she has left to say.

Jeongguk watches as Jimin steps forward, looking at her body in the coffin; no one else can see her but the rose petals drift around her feet, floating up into the air around her, time hanging between the past and the present as she reaches forward to press the lips of her body shut before turning to Taehyung, in the wheelchair. He can't see her, but Jeongguk watches a tear trickle down his cheek and he knows that Taehyung can feel her presence, as she leans forward and gently presses her lips to his mouth, awkward around the respirator tube but it doesn't matter.

For that tiny moment in time, her mouth touching Taehyung's, the rose petals from her coffin hanging in the air around them, Jimin is alive again. Taehyung's fingers twitch, his eyes blink, and Jeongguk's sure that if he could, Taehyung would say something. But he can't.

Instead, they all hear the whisper drifting through the air as Jimin pulls away, the word echoing down the hallway, loud in its stillness.

Goodbye.

There's a touch of red on Taehyung's mouth, as the petals all fall slowly to the ground, as Jeongguk, the only one who can see her again, watches Jimin fade away into the light streaming through the windows high up near the ceiling. A last solitary firefly floats out of Taehyung's mouth to drift upward towards her ghost and through it as it disappears, the firefly flying out through the open door at the end of the corridor, gone into the day.

 

 

 

Taehyung stops dying.

The doctors don't understand, but then again, they never understood anyway. There's a scary moment in the hospital, after the disinterment, where Taehyung keeps coughing and coughing, eyes blinking red from burst vessels, his lips turning blue with the force of his diaphragm spasming, and it seems like he's trying to cough out his lungs as he brings up mouthful after mouthful of dead fireflies, black crushed bodies spilling over his tongue.

Seolhyun is crying as Choa wraps her arms around her in the corner, the nurses all looking grave as they monitor Taehyung's heart rate and pulse through all the tubes they reattached to him after he got back to his room, shaking their heads, but Jeongguk doesn't care as he rubs Taehyung's back, holds him up as the coughing finally stops. It hurts to wipe away the red on Taehyung's mouth, pass him a glass of water so he can rinse the last of the dead fireflies and blood out of his mouth, but Jeongguk just wraps his arms as best as he can around Taehyung and trusts.

And that's the last time Taehyung coughs up the remains of fireflies. His condition, rather than continuing to deteriorate, rapidly begins to improve, and there's something like shock on the doctor's face as he signs the release forms so that Taehyung can go home.

Jeongguk doesn't care. He just sits in the back of the car, arm wrapped around Taehyung who's leaning his head against Jeongguk's shoulder, no tubes or wires attached to him, no breathing tube stuck down his throat.

 

 

 

It's strange, how quickly things go back to normal, even though this new normal still feels fragile sometimes; the way Jeongguk watches Taehyung when he's sleeping, waking up in the middle of the night, head snapping towards Taehyung in the dark before he remembers that Taehyung isn't coughing up fireflies anymore. It's good, but Jeongguk lived a whole year preparing for Taehyung's death, so sometimes it still feels surreal, the fact that he doesn't have to do that anymore.

Taehyung catches him sometimes, staring at him across the table at the coffee shop while Seolhyun is flirting with Choa across the counter, their voices bubbling through the morning air.

"Hey," Taehyung says, reaching out a hand to poke at Jeongguk's face. "Earth to Jeongguk." Jeongguk blinks, refocuses on Taehyung's face.

"I guess you're stuck with me after all!" he says, sticking out his tongue, and if Jeongguk wasn't so happy that Taehyung isn't still dying, swallowing the lump in his throat that still pops up sometimes when he starts to think about, he'd probably kick Taehyung for even saying something like that.

He doesn't of course, just rolls his eyes and steals a cookie from Taehyung's plate.

"You're not allowed to go anywhere," he says, ignoring Taehyung's complaints about stolen food as he bites down on the cookie, the taste of roses filling his mouth. Sometimes it's almost hard to get used to the fact that Taehyung is here to stay, but he'd rather spend the rest of his time getting used to it rather than practice for him dying again.

Every day is a miracle, and that's okay.

 

 

 

Jimin's remains are cremated and reinterred, at a small ceremony around a tiny grave tucked away in a cemetery in the mountains, overlooking the valley. It's calm, birds singing in the forest, the wind rustling the leaves and stirring the clothes of the people standing next to Jimin's tombstone, her name engraved on the dark marble.

Jeongguk looks around at the people standing in the sunlight. Jimin's parents have tears in their eyes, but they're holding hands; Jimin's mother even smiles when a butterfly drifts down on the breeze, alighting on the tombstone for a moment before flying off into the sky.

Seolhyun is standing there, her hand in Choa's, dark head leaning down to rest on Choa's shoulder, blond hair tickling her cheek, and Jeongguk smiles at his friend.

When the small box is completely buried in the ground, the last of the earth shoveled over, a bird begins to sing, and Jimin's mother sighs, as though she's saying goodbye, before turning to walk back down the hill. They all slowly follow her then, back down to the parking lot from where they'll drive to supper together, a celebration of Jimin's life, but Jeongguk lingers, waving at Taehyung to start without him.

"I'll just be a second," he says, and Taehyung looks at him for a moment before nodding, the sound of his footsteps receding down the slope.

Jeongguk takes the rose he'd brought out of his pocket, carefully wrapped in paper, and steps forward to lay it on the marble in front of her tombstone.

"Thank you," he whispers, and lets the wind carry his words to where Jimin can hear them.

 

 

 

_ fin. _

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> proofread 26.09.2015 14:49

**Author's Note:**

> This story is structured around three people, and a fourth. Like the text in the photo prompt: _legacy: one will rise, one will fall, one will die_ as well as the lyrics for Vixx's Error, where someone can't be forgotten, and the quote _In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on_ which counter-balances the Vixx lyrics.
> 
> Shin Jimin (AOA - 8 jan 91) is deceased at the beginning of the story (one will die; the one who can't be forgotten). Kim Taehyung (BTS - 30 dec 95) is Jimin's (ex)boyfriend (one will fall). Jeon Jeongguk (BTS - 1 dec 97) has always been in love with Taehyung, his childhood friend (one will rise; life goes on). Extra characters are Park Choa (AOA - 6 mar 90), who is here Jimin's friend (though it doesn't come up in the story much) as well as Jeongguk's boss and friend. She's interested in Kim Seolhyun (AOA - 3 jan 95) who is here Taehyung's older sister.
> 
> -
> 
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